


Yesterday Brought the Beginning, Tomorrow Brings the End

by Evening_Bat



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (2014)
Genre: Gen, Presumed Dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-02
Updated: 2014-09-02
Packaged: 2018-02-15 20:12:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2241903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evening_Bat/pseuds/Evening_Bat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rocket didn’t make it out, and Peter has no idea what he’s going to tell Groot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yesterday Brought the Beginning, Tomorrow Brings the End

**Author's Note:**

> Another kinkmeme fill, in response to a request for the flipside of Rocket & Groot's situation at the end of the movie.

Next time things would be different, Peter swore as he distanced himself from the burning building, taking quick advantage of the gathering chaos to disappear into the crowd of gawking bystanders. 

Next time, his team would be _smart_ about things and not let the Nova Corps goad them into going after another impossible target. They knew how awesome they were. They didn’t have to keep proving it by swooping in and taking down some crook that the Nova Corps couldn’t touch. No matter how many leading comments the corpsmen made, or how big the bounties were, or how many shiny new toys they dangled in front of - 

Oh God, _Rocket_.

Peter sucked in a shaky breath and swiped a hand over his eyes, ducking into a nearby alley and leaning hard against the wall of the neighbouring building. Yeah, they were going to have to be more careful next time. Whenever - if ever - that was.

...Fuck, what was he going to say to _Groot_?

He’d better figure something out fast. The other three would be waiting for him. Distraction duty done, they’d be lurking around the back gate as agreed. He pushed himself away from the wall and started to walk, heading down the alley to the next street over before circling around to the rear of the building he’d so recently exited. The whole place must have gone up by now; the sky was orange with reflected light. Hell, the rest of the team was probably enjoying the show. Rocket had made no secret of the fact that he planned to make liberal use of Ejurin’s wares on his way out. 

But not like _this_ , Peter thought. This hadn’t been anything like what they’d planned.

They were indeed watching the fire when Peter found them, though Gamora spotted him almost immediately as he turned the corner. The smile dropped off of her face as soon as she got a good look at him, and on any other day, he’d have made a joke. He knew he was a mess - coat scorched, hair singed, and skin reddened by the heat - and tradition practically demanded that he brush it off or angle for sympathy. But he didn’t have the heart for their usual games today, especially not when Groot turned to greet him with a wide smile, reflexively looking down for Rocket.

Groot frowned in confusion, looking to either side of Peter’s feet and then angling his head as if Rocket might be hiding behind him. He even swept a curious glance up to Peter’s shoulders, frown deepening when he didn’t find Rocket perching there. Behind him, Gamora had gone very still and Drax’s face was settling into familiar lines of implacable rage, but Groot just turned back to Peter and waited patiently for him to explain the inexplicable. 

Peter’s heart turned over in his chest at Groot’s open and unshadowed expression. Funny how all the chatter that usually came so easily had dried up, now that he needed to find the right words to say something so very wrong. 

“Peter?” Gamora’s voice was soft, weighed down by dread.

He forced himself to look Groot straight in the eye when he finally said it. “Rocket didn’t make it out.”

It seemed to take a few seconds for the words to sink in, and then Groot recoiled, jerkily shaking his head in automatic denial.

“I’m sorry, Groot.” Peter made no effort to hide the cracking of his voice, half emotion, half smoke inhalation. “Everything went to hell in there. Rocket couldn’t make it to the rendezvous point. He told me to get out, then the whole place went up.”

“I am Groot!” His evident desperation made the meaning of the words all too clear.

He really should have been expecting something like it, but Peter was still caught off guard when Groot abruptly twisted and lunged towards the burning building. He cursed and belatedly lurched into motion, but Drax beat him to it.

He stepped smoothly into Groot’s path, catching him around the chest and leaning his full weight forward to counter Groot’s momentum. “No, my friend. He is gone, and you cannot help him.”

Gamora was already sliding in behind Groot, wrapping her arms around his waist to anchor him in place.

Groot struggled against the restraints of their arms, eyes still fixed on the uneven light of the fire. There weren’t any words in the deep, frantic noise he was making, and it _hurt_ Peter to hear it.

All too aware that they _couldn’t_ hold Groot back if he really wanted to shake them off, Peter hurried to add what he could to their efforts. He got there just as Groot braced one hand on Drax’s shoulder, flinging his other arm forward and stretching it towards the flames. Peter intercepted it with both hands, clenching his fingers tight when the branches in his grip writhed and tried to grow free.

“It won’t help! I _tried_!” He’d thrown himself into hard vacuum for Gamora days after they’d met. He’d do a hell of a lot more than walk through fire for any of his team now. “I went back in after the first round of explosions, but I couldn’t find him. And I looked as long as I could. There - there’d be nothing left now, Groot, and you wouldn’t make it past five steps in there.” 

Groot made another one of those awful noises and stared at Peter, eyes wide and pained and full of disbelief, and for a minute Peter was eight years old again, all alone with the flat squeal of the monitors ringing in his ears, and he’d missed his chance to say goodbye. He nearly choked on the sudden lump in his throat, and had to turn away to blink the sting out of his eyes.

Groot drew in on himself, tugging Peter a few steps forward as his arm withdrew to its usual length, and for a few terrible seconds Peter was _sure_ Groot was going to ignore him and send them all flying so he could charge right into the fire. They’d go after him, of course, but Peter had no idea how they were going to keep him from burning up while they dragged him back out. Then he slumped forward over Drax’s shoulders, clutching desperately at Peter’s hands as he sagged between the other two. They held him up as he shook between them, and Peter gently tugged one hand free so that he could loop Groot’s arm around his shoulders and step in close enough to wrap himself into the support they’d woven around him.

It wasn’t nearly enough, but it was all they could do.

“Ejurin dies for this,” Drax promised, something raw and aching in his voice.

“Pretty sure Rocket took care of that already,” Peter said. He hadn’t seen the man himself, but it was a good bet that the extra security that had blown their plans was a result of his unexpected presence. “But I’m all for having a chat with the contact that sold us the shitty information.”

“Done.” 

Peter had heard that icily determined tone from Gamora before. Their poorly-informed contact wasn’t going to escape the upcoming conversation unscathed, not that Peter had much sympathy to spare for him. Given the loss of one teammate and the utter devastation of another, Peter wasn’t really worried about reining in the violence this time around. He’d settle for hiding the evidence of their involvement along with any bodies.

“In the meantime, what do you say we head back to the ship?” Hanging around here wasn’t going to do them any good, especially not if the Nova Corps came sniffing around.

Groot lifted his head at that and pointed at the fire still burning behind them. “I am Groot.”

Peter shook his head slowly, unable for once to throw his belief behind the impossible odds. “If he’s still in there, we can’t do anything for him. And if he did get out, the ship is the first place he’d go.”

In fact, that was the last thing Rocket had said to him: _”There’s no way for me to get back out the way we came, so change of plans. You’ve got five minutes to get out of the building, Quill._ Five minutes _, don’t lose track. I’ll make my own way out and meet you back at the ship._ Then the muted snap of a severed comm connection and nothing more, no matter how Peter demanded an explanation. And he hadn’t _wanted_ to leave, but he trusted Rocket to take care of himself, and they’d all been quick to learn that hanging around when Rocket gave you a deadline was a very bad idea. So he headed out as instructed and five minutes later, the first explosion had nearly knocked him off of his feet as he loitered in the street.

For a second, Groot brightened hopefully at that idea, straightening to his full height and stepping away from their embrace. Then the reality of the situation caught up with him again, and his shoulders drooped as he nodded sadly. They fell into step around him as he led the way back to the spaceport, Peter and Gamora pacing steadily to either side of him as Drax followed in grim silence. For the first time since Peter had met him, Groot was moving like someone made of wood, stiff and graceless in Peter’s peripheral vision.

Peter had known that life wasn’t fair from the day they’d sat him down to explain that his mom was sick, really sick, but it never made reminders easier to take. He spared enough of his attention to curse out the universe’s cruel sense of humour, and paranoid weapons dealers, and overconfident raccoons, and heartbroken trees, and being too goddamn slow to help.

The walk back to the _Milano_ felt like it took hours, but his relief at finally getting back to the ship only lasted until they walked inside and found that the air smelled distinctly scorched. If someone had picked today of all days to leave something on and nearly set his ship on fire, Peter was going to completely lose his shit.

Groot shoved him into the bulkhead before he could get a word out, pushing past them and charging ahead into the ship. “I am Groot!”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Late, is what you are.”

Peter froze at the impossible sound of the voice complaining at them from inside, trading shocked looks with Gamora and Drax. Seized by a wild surge of hope, Peter scrambled down the corridor after Groot with the other two hard on his heels.

“Seriously, where the hell have you guys been? I thought you - what the - hey, put me _down_ , you big-!”

“I am _GROOT_!”

“What are you talking about, _alive_? Of course I’m - mrrph!”

They found them in the kitchen, Groot having collapsed to a cross-legged seat on the floor when he dragged Rocket into his arms. Rocket seemed bewildered by the attention and predictably uncomfortable with finding himself caught in a hug and pressed tight against Groot’s chest. He managed to work an arm free of the cocoon of branches Groot had wrapped around him, and he pointed an accusing finger at Peter when he saw him leaning in the doorway.

“Quill! What the fuck did you do to Groot?!”

“Me? _Me?_ I didn’t do anything! You’re the one who died!” Okay, maybe not the most coherent argument Peter had ever made, but he’d cut himself a break under the circumstances.

“Died? Who died? I’m fine!”

“Fine?” Gamora asked, nodding meaningfully to the first aid kit open on the table, contents scattered across the surface.

“Eh, mostly fine,” Rocket waved off her question, turning his free arm to display a patch of fur matted with blood. “Had to cut things a little bit close on the way out.”

“A little bit close…!” Peter nearly choked on the words. It wasn’t that he wasn’t glad to see that Rocket was all right, it was just that he was going to _strangle_ the little bastard for making them worry.

Groot loosened his grip on Rocket, crooning in concern as he withdrew his vines just enough to let Gamora look him over. To his credit, he did look okay beyond a few minor burns and scrapes.

“Told you I was fine,” he said, grinning up at her with his usual cocky smirk.

Peter may have lost his handle on his temper just a bit at that point. “Well, that’s just great - except for the part where _we thought you were dead_.”

“Why would you think that?” Rocket seemed honestly confused. “I told you I’d meet you back at the ship.”

“Yeah, right before _the building blew up!_ ”

“Only _half_ the building!”

“The half that you weren’t in, of course,” Gamora interrupted.

Rocket gave her a suspicious sidelong look. “Well, yeah. Why would I blow up the part where I was? Had to leave myself time to get out before the rest of it went up.”

“Of course,” Gamora repeated, shaking her head with a small huff of laughter before leaning forward and ruffling the fur between Rocket’s ears.

Peter wasn’t sure if it was sheer astonishment or Groot’s grip that kept Rocket still under the affectionate touch, but Gamora got to keep her fingers as she pulled away and took a seat at the table where she began to repack the first aid kit.

Drax rumbled a laugh at Peter’s back. “It was a fine display.”

“It _was_ pretty impressive, wasn’t it?”

“You didn’t answer your comm,” Peter cut in before Rocket’s smug grin widened any further. “I was calling you after - after everything went up. You didn’t answer.”

Rocket shrugged, eyeing Peter consideringly. “Didn’t get the call. Needed the transmitter to rig up a remote detonation.”

That...explained a lot, actually. Not enough to make it okay, but enough to make it make sense.

Peter pushed himself out of the doorway, crossing the few steps to where Groot still sat with Rocket tangled up in his arms and dropped into a crouch in front of them. Rocket stiffened at his approach, fur bristling slightly as he tipped his chin up to meet Peter’s eyes defiantly.

“Look, you got yourself out, and you took Ejurin down, and that’s great. Keep up the good work and all that. But the part where you let us think you were dead? That part, you don’t do again. Steal someone’s comm, hack the local media network, call Nova Corps with a message, I don’t care. Whatever it takes, you let us know you’re okay.” Peter rubbed his face, and let the effects of the last couple of hours show. “Jesus Christ, Rocket, you scared the _shit_ out of us.”

“I - uh, sorry?” Rocket flicked an ear uneasily, not protesting when Groot wound him back up in his branches and tugged him close. 

“Don’t worry about it. Just _don’t do it again_. We need a bit more than, ‘I’ll meet you back at the ship,’ if you’re going to blow up the building you’re standing in, okay?”

“I am Groot,” Groot added, unfurling a handful of delicate vines to trace reverently across Rocket’s face.

Rocket scrunched his face up into a spectacular grimace, ducking away from their attention. “All right, all right! Next time I’ll give everyone freaking step-by-step instructions!”

“Sounds like a plan!” Peter said, cheerfully bouncing to his feet and ignoring the grumbled curses behind him. 

He headed back out the door, collecting Drax with a jerk of his head, confident that Gamora was already on her feet and coming up behind him. “For now, I need a drink. And I’ve got a bottle of just the stuff in my bunk.”

He figured Groot could use a few minutes, and sure enough, a hastily stolen glance showed him that Groot had promptly tucked Rocket back into the curve of his arms and was holding on like he’d never let go. Rocket was putting on his usual routine of eye-rolling and complaining, but he wasn’t making any actual effort to get loose. 

“So I suppose you want the whole story?” he heard Rocket ask as they walked away from the kitchen.

“I am Groot.”

Safely out of Rocket’s sight, Peter let the grin stretch across his face. Yeah, they could give those two some time to be adorable with each other. The rest of them had booze to drink and a cautionary tale of revenge to plan, after all. And the universe's sick sense of humour could take that and suck on it.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from one of those friendship quotes that wanders the internet without attribution: “Yesterday brought the beginning, tomorrow brings the end, and somewhere in the middle we became the best of friends.”


End file.
